


Alternate Shower Travels

by The_Grey_Angel



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Gen, Pining, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-01
Updated: 2019-04-29
Packaged: 2019-11-07 16:54:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17964404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Grey_Angel/pseuds/The_Grey_Angel
Summary: This is a Shower Travels AU where the reader got to the world of Supernatural much, much earlier. Cause I need some John in my life. It’s the summer of 1989. Sam is 6, Dean is 10 ½, John is 35 and the reader is 21.





	1. What the Actual--

**Author's Note:**

> This hasn't been beta read yet.

**June 10th 1989**

 

You stepped into the shower after a very long day, sighing happily as the warm water hit your back. You closed your eyes and took a few moments to appreciate how it made your muscles relax. After a while, you opened your eyes to reach for the shampoo and started washing your hair. You massaged your scalp, happy noises escaping your lips. You tilted your head back and closed your eyes again to rinse your hair.

 

When you reopened them, you weren't in your shower anymore. It was a shower but definitely not yours. The water pressure was  _ much _ worse, for one thing, and it was a lot crappier than yours. “What the fuck!??” You asked out loud.

 

You heard the shower curtain being drawn. “I could ask you the same question.” A somehow familiar voice came from behind you and you instinctively covered yourself with your arms. “Turn around… slowly.” You heard the sound of a gun being cocked so you did as you were asked, your eyes widening when you saw who it was. Jeffrey Dean Morgan! With a gun pointed at your head! What the hell!?

 

You tried to cover yourself the best you could with the shower curtain as you faced him. He was a lot younger than he should have been and the gun was definitely a sign that this was probably not Jeffrey Dean Morgan. You took a look at the bathroom real quick and the feeling you got was that this was a motel bathroom. 

 

“Who are you and what are you doing in my shower?” He asked.

 

You swallowed with some difficulty. “Y/N.” You answered. “And I… I don’t know. O- one second I was home, in my sh-shower and the next, I…” Tears were threatening to fall. “Please don’t shoot me, I swear I don’t know how I got here!!” You were starting to panic, at this point.

 

John -- You were pretty sure this was John Winchester -- grabbed a towel and handed it to you. “Get out.” He ordered, motioning with his gun. 

 

“O-okay…” Shaking a little, you shut the shower and grabbed the towel, wrapping it around yourself before stepping out of the tub. 

 

“Si’down.” He motioned to the toilet with his gun. You did as you were told because he kinda scared you but to be honest, it was kinda hot too. “Don’t move.” John walked out of the bathroom and come back a few moments later with a small flask and a silver-coloured knife. “Gimme your arm.” He ordered and you held out your right arm for him. He grabbed it and made a small cut on your forearm with the knife and you hissed softly at the sharp pain it caused. But your skin didn’t start burning or boiling or anything, so he put the knife down. Next, he picked up the small flask, opened it and poured what you assumed was holy water on your skin. When there was no reaction, he twisted the cap back on, seemingly satisfied. He walked out of the bathroom again and came back with what was most likely one of his t-shirts. “Dry yourself up and put this on.” There was no room for argument in his tone and as soon as you took the shirt, he walked out, shutting the door behind himself. 

 

Still shaking a bit, you stood up and started to dry yourself off. As you did, you took some more deep breaths and tried to make sense of what was happening to you. Thing was, it didn’t make sense.  _ Supernatural  _ wasn’t real, it was just a TV show. Your favourite TV show but still. And although travelling between universes was canon, you were pretty sure it wasn’t a thing where you came from.

 

You put on the huge t-shirt. It almost went down to your knees because of how short you were. You opened the bathroom door and poked your head out. John was sitting at the small motel table, scribbling in what you recognized as his journal. You took a deep breath and stepped out into the room. 

 

“Hey…” You said, feeling so uncomfortable. 

 

He looked over to you. “Have a seat.” He nodded toward the bed. You bit your lip and went over to the bed, sitting down at the end of it. “We need to talk about this. Let’s start with where you’re from.”

 

You bit the inside of your cheek, unsure where to start. “Well…” You started anyway. “I’m technically from Quebec, in Canada…” The hunter raised an eyebrow. “But where I’m from, all of this,” You motioned to your surroundings. “It’s a TV show called  _ Supernatural _ …”

 

The older man leaned back in his chair. “A TV show?” You nodded in reply and he rubbed a hand down his face.

 

“Yeah…” You gave him an apologetic look. This couldn’t be easy to believe, you barely believed it yourself. “Actually, what year is it?” You asked him.

 

He blinked. “Uh, 1989, why?”

 

You nodded slowly. “So this is well before the show even started.” You explained. 

 

John nodded slowly, probably processing what you’d told him. “I see… And you don’t know how you got here, correct?”

 

You nodded in reply. “I wish I did…” You sighed. “Would be easier…”

 

*****

 

In the end, John had decided that it would be safer for you to stay with him until you could find a way to send you back home. You were pretty sure he still didn’t believe you, though. You told him a bit about your world, what it was like and how you were pretty sure magic didn’t exist there. You didn’t tell him any spoilers about the show because it probably wasn’t safe for him to know things he shouldn’t, and you explained that to him. For all you knew, it could change everything and maybe even destroy the space-time continuum. Though part of you wished you would stay long enough to save his life.

 

“Alright,” John stood up from his seat. “Well, you’re gonna need some clothes other than my shirt. I’m gonna go to the store and buy you some.” 

 

You nodded slowly. “Okay… I…” You pursed your lips and looked around for something to write on. “You’re gonna need to know what size I wear…” 

 

You didn’t usually tell your measurements to basically strangers but you didn’t really have a choice. You grabbed the motel’s pad of paper and the pen and wrote down what size clothes you wore. Hesitantly, you handed the paper to John.

 

He took it and cleared his throat. “I’ll be right back, you stay here, okay?” He glanced at you before grabbing his stuff. “Lock the doors, the windows, close the shades.” He instructed you. “Anybody calls, you don't pick up. If it's me, I'll ring once, then call back. You got that?” You swallowed and nodded. “Good.” He said and headed out the room. 

 

Once he had shut the door behind himself, you went over to it and locked it. You then locked the windows and closed the shades like he had told you to. When it was done, you sat back on the bed and sighed. What were you gonna do? You had work in the morning, you had a life, back home. Were you going to be stuck here forever? You closed your eyes and hugged yourself, tears welling up in your eyes.

 

*****

 

John came back about an hour and a half later. As soon as he walked in, it was clear on his face that never in his life had he had to buy feminine clothes. The bra section had probably overwhelmed him, or traumatized him, you weren’t sure. He handed you one of the shopping bags, avoiding your eyes.

 

“Her you go.” He said and cleared his throat.

 

“Thanks.” You took it and went into the bathroom to get changed. 

 

You pulled the clothes out of the bag and looked at them. They weren’t, by far, the type of clothes you usually wore but they would do for now. Beggars couldn’t be choosers. At least they fit you. You would have preferred to wash the underwear before putting them on but you didn’t really have a choice. You did promise yourself to wash everything as soon as you had access to a washing machine, though. You came out after a couple of minutes and saw that John was writing in his journal again. You went over to him.

 

He looked up at you. “Hey, they fit alright?” He asked and you nodded in reply. He nodded back. “Good, good.” He sounded like he felt really awkward and part of you felt bad for him. 

 

“Now what?” You asked, sitting down.

 

“I’m on a hunt, right now. Werewolves.” He turned to face you fully. “But after that, I’m gonna take you to Bobby’s. He knows more about weird stuff like this than I do.” He explained.

 

You nodded and sat down on the bed once more. “Is there anything I can help with?” You offered. “I mean, I’m far from being a Hunter but I know a thing or two about research…”

 

John cleared his throat. “Look, sweetheart,” The nickname made a tingle go down your spine. “No offence but I don’t know you and I don’t trust you. Besides,” He shifted a little in his seat and licked his lips. “I already have a pretty good idea of where the pack is. I only came back here to grab my gun and then I found you.”

 

You nodded slowly. “Sorry…” You said softly. 

 

The hunter shook his head. “Don’t be. This ain’t your fault, is it?” You didn’t answer and he didn’t wait for you to reply anyway. He just stood up and grabbed his duffle bag. “I left you Bobby’s number.” He motioned to a piece of paper on the table. “If I’m not back by dawn, call him.” He instructed and you nodded, biting your lip. “Lock the door behind me.” And he left. 

 

The whole time John was gone, you worried about him. Rationally, you knew that in canon, he made it through season one so he couldn’t die tonight but it was still worrisome. To distract yourself you checked the other shopping bags to see what else he had bought for you. There was a toothbrush, some toothpaste and dental floss, some more clothes, a pouch to put your toiletries in and a brand new duffle bag. You put everything in it and waited for the hunter.

 

*****

 

He came back hours later, covered in grime and bleeding from deep looking scratches that went from his right shoulder and almost all the way to his elbow. As soon as you saw him, you jumped on your feet and rushed over to him.

 

“I’m fine.” He grunted but he didn’t look fine.

 

“Like hell you are.” You got even more worried but your protective instincts kicked in. “Where’s your first aid kit?” You asked. 

 

He held up his duffle bag in response. “I got it, Y/N.” He said as he put it down on the bed and started taking off his jacket. 

 

You shook your head. “Let me look at it.” Your tone didn’t leave room for argument. 

 

John looked at you for a few moments and then he sighed. “Fine…” He pulled out his first aid kit. “Do you even know how to sew?”

 

You nodded. “Yep.” You helped him take off his torn and bloodied button-up shirt and tried not to stare at his chest. Now wasn’t the time to check him out. 

 

He reluctantly agreed to let you stitch him up. You opened the first aid kit and got to work cleaning up the werewolf scratches. They were deeper than you had first thought and they were bleeding a lot. You used a clean washcloth and some rubbing alcohol to clean up most of the blood and grime and once it was done, you grabbed a needle and thread from the kit. 

 

Sewing up flesh was different than fabric but you did your best. The whole time you worked, John kept groaning and grumbling. He had opened a bottle of whiskey and was drinking from it with his left hand. In the end, you were pretty proud of your work stitching him up and started bandaging him. It really wasn’t bad for your first time. 

 

When you were all done, John muttered a ‘thank you’ and went to the bathroom to clean himself up the best he could. While he did that, you cleaned up the mess you’d made. He couldn’t shower because of his bandage so he was still a bit dirty when he came out. 

 

He packed up his things and looked at you. “Ready to go?” He asked you and you nodded. “Alright, I’ll call Bobby.” He went over to the motel phone and dialled a number. He talked to Bobby for a few minutes, briefly explaining the situation. You were only aware of one side of the conversation but by the look on John’s face, you could tell that Bobby had trouble believing him.

 

After a while, he hung up and told you to wait by the car while he checked out from the motel. You walked over to Baby, almost reverentially. She looked even more beautiful in person. And once you’d gotten in and John had started the engine, her purr made your knees buckle. It was a good thing you were sitting down. The show hadn’t done her justice one bit. She sounded amazing. 

 

The drive to Bobby’s was quiet for a long time, save for the music John had put on. You were the first one to speak. “Thank you… for not kicking me out on the street or something.”

 

The older man glanced at you. “Did you really think I would toss you out on the street?” He sounded a little amused. “You don’t give me enough credit.” He looked over to you again, there was a smile on his lips. “You should know me better than that, having watched a whole show about me and my boys.”

 

You chuckled softly. “I guess…” Part of you wanted to tell him that most of the show wasn't about him since he died but you didn’t, afraid of what might happen if you did. Hell, angels could appear right now and kill you for messing with the universe or something. No, you couldn’t risk it. “Still…” You bit your lip. “Thank you.”

 

John looked back at the road. “You’re welcome, sweetheart.” He drawled and you felt a shiver run down your spine once more. He stayed quiet for a few moments before speaking up again. “Why don’t you tell me a bit about yourself?”

 

You looked over to him. “What would you like to know?” You asked, tilting your head at him. 

 

The hunter shrugged. “Whatever you feel comfortable sharing with me.”

 

You pursed your lips, thinking about it. “Well… I like cats.” You started and he chuckled. You gave him a look and he motioned for you to keep going. And you did. You told him your favourite colour, what you liked to do for fun, how you loved classic rock - which he seemed to approve of - and you told him about your job, back in your world. He listened to you, nodding from time to time. You told him about the few friends you had, about your family, your asshole of a father, and how much you liked to draw. 

 

By the time the salvage yard was in sight, it was around 2 AM and John had shared a few things with you as well. He’d told you what his favourite song was, how he still liked to watch baseball games when he could, but he didn’t talk about his boys. You could feel that he didn’t trust you nearly enough for that. You were a stranger, one who knew a lot about him but still a stranger. 

 

When he pulled up in front of the house, Bobby was waiting on the front porch. You got out of the truck after John did and walked over to the old man. He looked much younger, though. Which made sense, but it was still weird to you. He still looked very surly, though. 

 

John went over to Bobby. “Bobby, this is Y/N, the one I told you about on the phone. Y/N, Bobby Singer.”

 

You gave a shy wave. “Hey.”

 

*****

**June 11th 1989**

 

You were sitting at the small table in Bobby’s kitchen with both men, talking over beers. You had explained to Bobby where you were from and about the show but, again, you avoided spoilers. You explained to him why, too. You couldn’t risk fucking up this universe by giving them knowledge they shouldn’t have.

 

“An’ people  _ watch _ this show?” Bobby asked, disbelief clear on his face.

 

You nodded. “Thousands of people, from all over the world.” Both hunters looked at you with wide eyes and you chuckled quietly. “Yeah… If it helps…” You licked your lips. “You two are some of my favourite characters.”

 

They looked at each other for a few seconds then back to you. John spoke up. “So Bobby,” He cleared his throat. “You ever heard of anyone crossing universes like that?”

 

The older man shook his head in reply. “I don’t think anyone ever has.” he took a swig from his beer. “But I’ll check my books and the library… See if there’s any lore on it.”

 

You sighed softly. “Thank you.” Bobby nodded at you. “I’ll help in whatever way I can.”

 


	2. Training Montage

Bobby had gotten you more or less settled in his last spare bedroom, on a shitty little mattress. It wasn’t much but it would do. John had muttered goodnight to you and went into the other spare bedroom, where you assumed the boys were sleeping. You shut the door to your new temporary bedroom and sighed. There wasn’t much you could do at 4 AM so you kicked off your shoes, took off your jeans and your bra and you sat down on the shitty mattress. 

 

You sighed again and put your head in your hands. Thoughts were passing through your head a thousand miles a minute. What were you gonna do in the morning? Were you ever gonna get home? Had anyone noticed you were gone? Had they called the police? What were you even gonna do if you got back home? It was too much. You laid down on your side and pulled the blanket tight to your body. You buried your face in the pillow and tears started rolling down your face. You cried silently so no one heard you, little quiet sobs escaping you. You just hugged the pillow and let it all out.

 

*****

 

You opened your eyes and sunlight was filtering through the curtains over your bedroom window. You looked around and remembered this wasn’t your room. You were nowhere near your room. You sat up slowly with a yawn and stretched a bit before standing up. You looked into your new duffle bag and chose some clothes for the day. As you put them on, you remembered how you had promised yourself to wash them. You grabbed your duffle bag and headed downstairs to look for Bobby. He was in the kitchen with John and the boys. 

 

Sam and Dean were eating cereal, looking happy to have their dad back. When you walked in, though, they both looked at you. You got a muttered ‘Mornin’’ from the two men.

 

“Who are you?” Dean asked with the tactfulness of a ten-year-old.

 

“Dean, Sam,” Bobby looked between you and the boys. “This is Y/N. She’s gonna be stayin’ here for a bit.”

 

“Hello.” You waved at them with a smile. John just kept eating his toasts. 

 

“Why?” Dean asked both Bobby and his dad. Sam waved back shyly and went back to his Lucky Charms.

 

“Because something happened and she needs someplace to stay.” The older hunter explained then looked to you. “Hungry?” You nodded in reply. “Toast or cereal?”

 

“I’ll have some toasts, please.” You answered.

 

Bobby got up with a nod and put two slices of bread in the toaster, then he grabbed you a plate and a butter knife. “We got raspberry jam and peanut butter.” He told you and you nodded again. 

 

When you toasts were done, you grabbed them and sat down at the table to spread some jam on them. 

 

Everyone ate pretty much in silence for what felt like a long time. Eventually, Bobby spoke up again. 

 

“Alright,” He cleared his throat. “So I’m gonna go to the library to see if they got any books that could help us figure this out. You two,” He pointed to John and you. “Look through the books I have here.” 

 

“Alright.” John drawled. 

 

*****

 

After breakfast, the boys ran upstairs to brush their teeth and Bobby left for the library. You wanted to go after him and tell him about the spell to travel between universes from season 13 and 14 but you didn’t. You couldn’t. One of the ingredients was archangel grace and Bobby didn’t find out about angels until Season 4. You tried to tell yourself that, even if you told him, there was no way you could get your hands on all the ingredients, but it didn’t make you feel better.  

 

Instead of torturing yourself, you tried to focus on going through Bobby’s books. John helped you while the boys played with toy cars in the kitchen. There were a lot of books, most of which had nothing to offer. Nothing relevant to your situation, anyway. If you needed to know about werewolves or Djinn or vetala, though, you had more than enough information available. Bobby eventually came back with even more books and joined you in reading through them. 

 

After hours of not finding anything, your eyes and head were hurting and you thought your head was going to explode if you had to read one more word. John must have noticed your expression because he sat up and closed the book he was holding.

 

“Let’s take a break.” He drawled. “The boys must be hungry anyway.”

 

You gave him a grateful look. “I could make some lunch.” You offered.

 

“You do that.” Bobby pipped in. “I’m gonna make some calls, see if anyone’s ever heard of something like this.”

 

You looked over at John. “I mean, if it’s okay with you…”

 

He looked at you for a few moments and then nodded. “Sure.” He stood up and headed over to the kitchen. You followed him there. “Go wash up, boys.” He told them and they looked up. “Y/N’s gonna make you something to eat.”

 

Sam and Dean’s eyes turned to you, Dean’s were suspicious. “What would you like?” You asked, smiling softly. 

 

Dean looked back to his dad like he was asking if you could be trusted to make lunch. When John nodded, the boy turned back to you. “PB&J.”

 

“Please.” Sam added.

 

“Without the crusts.” His brother specified.

 

You smiled wider. “I’ll get right on it.” And the boys went to the bathroom to wash their hands.

 

You grabbed the bread, the jar of peanut butter and the jam and got to work. John watched you the whole time you made the sandwiches. And when the boys came back, Dean watched you too. You cut the crusts off both their sandwiches and placed the plates on the table. The brothers sat down and started eating. 

 

“What do you say, boys?” John raised an eyebrow at them.

 

“Thank you.” Sam and Dean said at the same time and you smiled.

 

“You’re welcome.” You looked over to John. “What kind of sandwich would you like?”

 

John blinked like he hadn’t expected that. “Uh… Ham and mustard.” He answered. “Please.” He added sorta like an afterthought.

 

You nodded and made three more sandwiches. Ham and mustard for John, Ham and cheese for Bobby and PB&J for yourself. You brought Bobby’s sandwich to his desk before going back to the kitchen to eat yours. You were pretty sure the hunter didn’t notice but you hoped he would eventually. After lunch, it was back to research. There were a _ lot  _ of books. 

 

*****

 

**June 13th, 1989**

 

A couple of days of research and calls later, you still hadn’t found anything that could help you get home or how you had even gotten to this world, in the first place. You were starting to lose hope of ever getting back home and to clear your mind a bit, you went for a walk around the Salvage Yard. You took your time, meandering through the wrecked cars, taking some deep breaths.

 

When you came back to the house, John was talking to Bobby, on the front porch and the boys were putting their bags in the Impala. You went over to the two men.

 

“What’s going on?” You asked, frowning a little. 

 

They looked at you. “We’re leaving.” John drawled. “The boys are gonna go to a summer camp while I visit an old friend.” You nodded slowly.

 

“And you’re gonna be stayin’ with me.” Bobby added. 

 

Your frown deepened. “Why?”

 

“It’ll be safer for you here.” John explained and you pressed your lips together in a thin line.

 

“You’re gonna need some training, if you’re gonna be staying here.” Bobby said.

 

You nodded slowly again. “I see… Well,” You tried to contain your anger. You couldn’t help but feel like John was dropping you on Bobby like you were just a burden he didn’t need. “I’m gonna go say bye to Sam and Dean.” You went over to the brothers before the men could say anything else. “Hey, you two.” Your expression softened because you couldn’t be mad at those boys. It wasn’t their fault.

 

“Hi.” Sam replied with a smile. He had warmed up to you a bit. 

 

Not Dean, though. He was still highly suspicious of you. You couldn’t blame him, you were still very much a stranger. “Hey.” The older boy said, subtly placing himself between you and Sam.

 

“I hear you’re going to a summer camp.” You smiled softly. “That’s cool.”

 

Sam nodded excitedly. “Dad says there’s a river and that we can do some canoeing!”

 

You smiled wider. “That’s awesome!”

 

Sam grinned. “Are you coming with us?”

 

You shook your head. “No, sorry. I gotta stay with your Uncle Bobby.”

 

His smile fell a little. “Oh...”

 

“It’s okay.” You tried to comfort him. “Hopefully, we’ll see each other when you come back.”

 

He nodded slowly. “Yeah.”

 

“Hey,” You crouched to get on the same level as him. “You’re going to an awesome summer camp and you’re gonna have a lot of fun, right?”

 

The younger Winchester perked up a little. “Yeah.”

 

You smiled softly. “Bye, Sam.” You looked over at Dean. “Bye, Dean.” You stood back up.

 

“Bye.” The older brother nodded to you.

 

Sam smiled at you. “Bye, see you when we get back.”

 

You smiled back as John came over. “Ready, boys?” He asked. They nodded and got into the Impala. The elder Winchester turned to you. “See ya, Y/N.”

 

You smiled tightly. “Bye.”

 

He got into the car and drove off. Sam waved at you and you waved back. 

 

Bobby walked over to you. “Ever shoot a gun before?”

 

*****

 

The next week or so was spent training with Bobby. You already knew a lot about what went bump in the night but it was all theory. Now, you needed some practice. 

 

Bobby had set up a line of empty beer bottles in his backyard. He stood about ten feet away from it with a rifle and shot one of the bottles, making it explode into a billion pieces. You jumped a little. 

 

“Your turn.” He handed you the rifle. You swallowed and took it hesitantly. The hunter showed you how to stand and how to hold it properly. “Now, pull the trigger.” You tried to aim at one of the bottles and pulled the trigger. The sound made you jump again and you missed completely, the bullet hitting one of the wrecked cars with a ‘ping’. “Again.” Bobby said. 

 

*****

 

**June 15th, 1989**

 

You barely dodged the fist Bobby threw at you and you stumbled a bit. 

 

“Watch out for that left.” He drawled.

 

You got back into your fighting stance and tried to hit him with a right hook. He blocked it easily. You tried to kick him in the knee and he blocked it again. Next thing you knew, you were falling on your ass after a sharp pain hit you in the right side of the head. You groaned in pain and looked up at him. The old hunter held out his hand and helped you up when you took it.

 

“Fucking…” You grumbled. 

 

“What did I just say?” Bobby shook his head at you.

 

“Watch out for the left.” You sighed and rubbed your head. “Sorry…”

 

“Don’t be sorry, be better.” He told you and you nodded, getting back into a fighting stance. “So, whatcha gonna do?”

 

“Watch out for the left.” You repeated.

 

*****

 

You were sitting in Bobby’s study and he was at his desk. “Werewolves?” He asked.

 

“Silver bullet to the heart. Same for other Shapeshifters.” You answered.

 

The older man nodded. “Vetala?”

 

“Silver blade to the heart and twist it. They hunt in pairs.” Came your reply.

 

“Good.” He flipped another page in his journal. “Demons?”

 

You shifted a little in your seat. “Devil’s Trap, salt, iron, holy water and exorcisms.”

 

“What about spirits?”

 

“Salt and burn the remains or the object they’re attached to.”

 

*****

 

**June 18th, 1989**

 

You were shooting empty tin cans in the backyard, after breakfast, under Bobby’s watchful eye. The last few days had been spent shooting, sparing and telling the hunter what you knew about monsters, pretty much all day, every day. Except when he had people calling. Then, you helped him with research. Your aim had improved a lot and you could hit almost every bottle or can on the first try. 

 

You were reloading the gun when you heard it. Like a tarp flapping in the wind. You turned around to face the two men that were now standing there. 

 

Bobby reached for his gun. “Who the Hell are ya??”

 

“Stand down, Bobby Singer,” One of the men said, eyes fixed on you. “We are here for the girl.”

 

You swallowed thickly as the hunter cocked his gun. “Answer the question.”

 

“We are angels of the Lord.” The other man -- angel -- replied. “Now, stand aside. This does not concern you.”

 

Bobby looked taken aback. “Excuse you? Angels??”

 

The angels now had blades in their hands. “We felt a disturbance in the flow of the universe.” The first one said, moving towards you. They were both ignoring Bobby. 

 

“That disturbance is you.” The second one added. “You do not belong here.”

 

“So you’re just gonna kill me??” You asked, fear creeping into your voice. 

They both charged you with their blades and tried to grab you. You dodged out of the way and Bobby shot one of them with no effect whatsoever. You punched the other angel in the face and to your surprise, and his, it seemed to hurt him. You knew running wouldn’t work so you had to stay and fight. You kicked the first one in the balls and he groaned in pain.

 

Punches and kicks were exchanged, and you even got a few hits in. You didn’t know what Bobby was doing but you didn’t have time to try and find out. You blocked and dodged the hits and slashes from the angels the best you could but it was two against one. The second one managed to stab you right in the heart and you screamed in pain. For a second, you thought you were going to die, and then nothing happened. The angels looked at you, then at each other, extremely confused. The first one tried to stab you again but it didn’t kill you, it just hurt like nothing you had ever felt before. 

 

“Impossible!” The second one said. “You’re human! You should be dead!” Then he put his hand on your head, probably to smite you, and you punched him in the face to get him to back off. 

 

You were super confused too, but your training with Bobby had kicked in, there would be time to ask questions later. 

 

Speak of the Devil, the hunter shot one of the angels again, more as a way to get their attention than anything. “Hey! Would one of you mind explaining what the fuck is going on?!?” You all turned to him. 

 

One of the angels raised a hand. “Hold on.” Bobby just cocked his shotgun again. 

 

You held up your hand too, panting. “I don’t know… I  _ should _ be dead.” You looked to the angels. “How about a truce?” You offered. 

 

They exchanged glances and then nodded at you. “We only came because your presence here poses a threat to the Great Plan.” The second angel explained. 

 

“What Great Plan?” The hunter asked, looking like he would rather kill them than chat. 

 

You shook your head. “I’ll explain later.” You turned to the angels. “So you were just gonna kill me and not bother asking questions later?” They said nothing. “Wow…”

 

“We cannot allow anyone or anything to interfere with the fate of Sam and Dean Winchester.” The first angel spoke up.

 

“I know…” You sighed. “Trust me, no one knows it better than I do. But I didn’t choose to come here.” 

 

You explained to them how you were from another universe where all of this was a TV show and how you didn’t know how you got here or how to go back. They listened to your story, asking questions here and there. You answered them the best you could. 

 

In the end, the three of you made a deal, not that Bobby was very pleased with that. In his experience, deals were nothing but bad news. In your experience too, but it was the only option you could see. The deal was that you wouldn’t try to change what must be, and you gave your word, even if it broke your heart to do so. Because it meant that you wouldn’t be able to save John.

 

The angels left with a flap of their invisible wings and Bobby glared at you. “Talk.” He growled. “Now.”

 

You were going to, but then you passed out from the exertion and the pain from the  _ stab wound in your heart. _

 

*****

 

When you woke up, all your wounds were bandaged up. You looked around as you sat up with a pained groan and saw that you were on the couch, in Bobby’s study. He was sitting at his desk with a glass of bourbon. 

 

“Explain.” He said. “And it better be good.”

 

So you told him. About how, yes, angels were real, and most of them were just dicks with wings. No, you didn’t know why they hadn’t been able to kill you. Yes, you would have told him if you knew you weren’t human. No, you didn’t know what you were. You explained how there was this plan to start the Apocalypse when Sam and Dean would be adult and how they were going to stop it. 

 

You made him promise not to tell anyone about it because it could change things and make them even worse. You did tell him about the boys being vessels for Michael and Lucifer. You assured him that no, Sam wasn’t evil. On the contrary, he was one of the greatest heroes you had ever known. You didn’t tell him, however, that Sam was gonna come back without his soul. You had risked enough by telling him what you had already. The hunter wasn’t happy but something told you he would keep his word. 

 

*****

 

Bobby and you had spent the next couple days researching angel lore, warding as well as what you could possibly be. Not many things could survive an angel blade. By the end of the second day, you had three possibilities: some sort of pagan deity, a higher up angel from your universe, or a Nephil.


	3. First Hunt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay.

**June 21st, 1989**

 

You were sitting in the passenger seat of Bobby’s truck, on your way to your very first hunt. He had made you some fake IDs and taken you shopping for some classic hunter disguises. It looked like it was just going to be a simple salt-and-burn but you were still excited. 

 

Bobby parked the truck at a motel and you hopped out after grabbing your bag. The hunter went over to the front desk and paid for a room with two queens. You followed him to the door and walked in after him. 

 

“Alright,” He drawled. “Best lead we got is this group of teenagers who claim they were attacked by a ghost.”

 

*****

 

The hunt went pretty smoothly, as salt-and-burns tend to go. Bobby and you interrogated the teenagers and found out where they had been attacked and what the ghost looked like. It turns out going to haunted houses as a dare was older than you thought. You then went to the library to go through old newspaper obituaries. The ghost turned out to be this man called Timothy Thompson. You found out he was buried in the local cemetery and the two of you went there with shovels, salt, matches and lighter fuel. 

 

So it turns out digging up a body is hard work. Sam and Dean made it look so easy, in the show, but it really wasn’t. You had barely dug four feet deep and you were already sweating profusely. Your arms and your back ached and you were panting with the effort. Even with all the training you had done in the past week. 

 

“Fuck…” You muttered under your breath.

 

Bobby chuckled breathlessly. “Helluva workout, huh, kiddo?” You nodded in reply. 

 

Eventually, the two of you managed to dig up the two remaining feet and uncovered the coffin. Bobby opened it. You climbed out of the grave with some difficulty and stood up with a groan. You tried to catch your breath as you grabbed the box of salt. Bobby got the lighter fuel and you both poured salt and fuel on the bones.

 

“Wanna do the honours, kid?” He asked, holding up the book of matches. You nodded and grabbed it, then you struck a bunch of matches and dropped them into the gave. The corpse instantly caught fire, making a ‘whoosh’ sound.

 

*****

 

The two of you were in Bobby’s truck, driving back to Sioux Fall. 

 

“So those angels…” Bobby started and you looked at him. “You sure they ain’t comin’ back?”

 

You nodded. “Don’t worry, you shouldn’t hear from any angels for another 20 years or so.” You answered. “They have ‘orders’ and are told ‘not to interfere’.”

 

He nodded slowly. “Even if bad stuff happens?”

 

You sighed. “It takes a shit ton of bad stuff for them to bother getting down here.”

 

The hunter glanced at you. “And they came for you.” He stated. “Should I be worried?”

 

You bit your lip. “...I don’t know.” You admitted. “I mean, they said they sensed a disturbance in the force or something, right? Cause I travelled between worlds  _ and  _ back in time.” He nodded. “Plus there’s the whole, me not being human thing…”

 

“Which we’ll figure out.” Bobby’s tone was trying to be reassuring.

 

“Yeah…” You sighed and looked out the window. “Thanks for not killing me, again.”

 

*****

 

The next couple of weeks or so were spent training some more. Bobby had bought you an actual bed for the other guest room, which was becoming more and more  _ your  _ room. Also, as far as you could tell, he kept his word about not telling anyone about angels, though he didn’t seem to like that very much. You still hadn’t found what you were, either. The only ways you had found to test it would be trying different killing methods but, for obvious reasons, you didn’t go that route. 

 

*****

 

**June 24th, 1989**

 

You blocked a hit from Bobby and punched him in the chest. 

 

He grunted, not having been quick enough to stop your fist. “Good job, kid!” He sounded proud and you grinned.

Your pride distracted you and you barely dodged a punch to the sternum. “Shit!”

 

Bobby shook his head at you. “Stay focused.” He told you. “You gotta stay aware or your dead.”

 

You swallowed. “Sorry…”

 

“What did I say about being sorry?” The hunter asked.

 

“Be better.” You answered and swung at him. He blocked with a nod.

 

You both got a few more hits in over the next half hour. Bobby blocked most of yours and you managed to dodge or block about half of his, but you were definitely getting better at this. Afterwards, you took a lunch and shower break before going back outside for target practice. 

 

*****

 

**June 27th, 1989**

 

That day was mostly spent shooting empty beer cans in the backyard. You could hit all of them almost every time, by then. Bobby was watching you from a kitchen chair he’d brought outside, drinking a beer. 

 

“Alright, kid,” He said after a while, sometime in the afternoon. “Enough of that.”

 

You looked at him over your shoulder. “What did I do?” You asked, confused.

 

He shook his head. “Nothin’. You’ve done enough trainin’ for now.” He explained. “Why don’t you take a break?” He stood up. “C’mon, I wanna show you somethin’.” He started walking towards the garage and you followed him. “This here,” He patted the hood of a car who could use some serious TLC, and you knew nothing about cars so that was saying something. “Is Betsy.”

 

You nodded slowly, slightly confused. “Okay?”

 

“As you can see, she’s pretty broken down.” He said and you nodded again. “I’m gonna show you how to fix her and, if you can do it by the end of next month, she’s yours.” 

 

You blinked at him. “Wait, what?”

 

“You heard me.” Bobby replied. 

 

You went over to the car. “I don’t know if I’ve told you this before, but I don’t know shit about cars.” You explained.

 

“That’s why I’ll be teachin’ you.” He said and opened the hood of  _ Betsy _ .  _ She  _ looked a little like Baby. If Baby had been in a few car crashes and her paint had rusted off. Also, on the front of her, you could make out the word  _ Cadilac _ .

 

Bobby grabbed some tools and started showing you the basics of fixing a car. For the first half hour or so, it basically sounded like Greek to you but you kept paying attention. Eventually, you picked up on some things. By the time the sun had set, you were doing it practically on your own, with some tips here and there from Bobby.

 

*****

 

For the following week, your days were spent sparring with Bobby, reading up on lore, target practice and working on Betsy. By the end of it, she looked a little better. To be quite honest, you felt a bit like Dean, one of the many times he had fixed up Baby. Now, you didn’t know Betsy as well as he knew Baby but still. You still had to work on her exterior but at least the inside was better. 

 

**July 4th, 1989**

 

You were sitting in the park next to Bobby, on an old blanket. You had another one draped over your shoulders and you were drinking a beer, waiting for the fireworks to start. You took a bite of your hotdog and leaned back on your elbows, glancing at the hunter. Bobby seemed more relaxed than you had  _ ever  _ seen him, so that was something. 

 

You took some time to think, while people were setting up the fireworks. You’d come a lot further than you had expected. You started as a confused, scared, struggling artist, and now, you knew how to fight, how to shoot with various guns and how to fix a car. Plus, you’d dug up and burned an actual corpse. Not to mention the fact that you’d found out you weren’t even human. Yes, it was a lot but surprisingly, you were doing okay. Bobby was even warming up to you, despite the not human thing. He had always been a father figure, on the show, and that was true, even now. You were proud. 

 

You jumped a little when the fireworks started. You’d been deeper in thought than you’d realized. You looked up and smiled at the lights and colours. You were gonna be okay.

 

*****

 

**July 6th, 1989**

 

You looked over to your alarm clock and groaned when you saw it was 2 AM. The sound of people coming up the stairs had woken you up. You heard faint voices through the door and went over to open it and investigate. When you opened the door you saw Bobby and John carrying Sam and Dean into the guest bedroom. The boys were fast asleep.

 

“Hey…” You whispered and the two men looked over to you. John nodded in reply. “Everything okay?”

 

“Just puttin’ the boys to bed.” Bobby murmured and they did just that.

 

“We can talk in the morning.” John said quietly, once they were done tucking the boys in. 

 

You wanted to point out that it was technically morning already but you thought better of it. You were too tired for that and John didn’t look much better.

 

“Alright… Night…” You mumbled and yawned. The two men nodded in response and you all went to bed. 

 

*****

 

When it was properly morning, you all had breakfast together. You had taken up the habit of cooking since Bobby either didn’t have time to do it or just didn’t want to, or both. He might have been the parent figure in this relationship but you liked making sure he was actually eating real food. Call it maternal instincts or whatever. So you were the one who made breakfast, that morning. The boys ate their eggs and hashbrowns happily and it made you smile.

 

“How was camp?” You asked them.

 

“It was nice.” Dean answered between mouthfuls. “Except from when my canoe tipped over…” He glanced over to Sam like there was something he didn’t want to say in front of him. “But dad took care of it.”

 

Sam grinned. “It was really cool! I made some friends and learned how to start a fire and I got to fish and I caught some bugs!”

 

You smiled and saw that the two men were smiling too. “Wow! That sounds really cool!” You said and the boy beamed. 

 

“I had to release them, though.” He sounded a bit sad at that. “But it’s okay. They had to go back home.”

 

When the boys were done eating and had brushed their teeth, they went to the backyard to play. 

 

“So, what’s new?” John asked, leaning back in his seat. 

 

Bobby and you exchanged glances and for a second, you though he might tell John about the angels.

 

“Well,” He started. “Y/N and I went on a hunt, and she’s been fixin’ Betsy.”

 

The younger hunter raised an eyebrow. “That old wreck?”

 

You nodded. “She already looks a lot better, too.” He looked impressed, for a moment. “And the hunt was a salt and burn but it went well.” John nodded in understanding. 

 

Bobby glanced at you again. “We found out somethin’…” His friend turned his gaze to him and the not-yet-old man cleared his throat. “Y/N ain’t exactly human…”

 

The older Winchester instantly tensed up and his eyes fixed on you as his hand instantly moved towards his gun. “What??”

 

You swallowed thickly. “Yeah…”

 

“But I tested her.” John shook his head incredulously. “You didn’t react to anything.”

 

“That’s cause she ain’t anythin’ we’ve seen before.” Bobby explained. 

 

The other hunter looked at him. “What is she?” He turned back to you. “What are you??”

 

The way he was looking at you, like you were just another monster, something that should be hunted, it nearly broke your heart. You swallowed with some difficulty again and looked to Bobby for help.

 

“We don’t know yet.” He answered. “But,” He added before John could say anything. “She’s no monster, that, I’m sure of.”

 

Before anyone could say anything else, one of Bobby’s phones rang. He stood up and went over to pick it up. While he talked to whoever it was, you quickly started to clean up the table and dishes. John seemed to have relaxed a little but it wasn’t by much and you couldn’t stand the way he was still looking at you. 

 

Thankfully, it didn’t take much time before Bobby spoke up. “We’ve got a possible water spirit at the Quabblin Reservoir, in Massachusetts.”

 

You perked up. “I’ll take it.” You offered a bit too eagerly. 

 

“You ain’t goin’ alone.” The hunter replied and looked to John, who probably made a face.

 

“Fine. I’ll go with her.” He said with so much reluctance in his voice, it hurt.

 

Bobby let his contact know that he had people on it and you went upstairs to get ready. 


End file.
